


Play the Game Again

by chibixkadaj



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Horror, M/M, Psychological Horror, Psychological Thriller with Violent Elements, Thriller, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibixkadaj/pseuds/chibixkadaj
Summary: Everyone's had weird Tinder dates, but for Jongin this time is going to be be killer.Alternatively-- Taemin loves playing games and Jongin looks like the best partner.





	Play the Game Again

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [kpopolymfics2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2019) collection. 



> This fic was written for K-Pop Olymfics 2019 as part of Team Alternate Reality 1. Olymfics is a challenge in which participants write fics based on prompt sets and compete against other teams of writers, organized by genre. Competition winners are chosen by the readers, so please rate this fic using [this survey](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeuK98eRwuExC4WXSRg4ttXsNPu3HCrmHIIpwciKJd5cNJOqA/viewform)!
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  **Red Velvet – "Peekaboo"**  
> [lyrics](https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2017/11/red-velvet-peek-boo-pikabu) **|** [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uJf2IT2Zh8) **|** [supplementary](https://66.media.tumblr.com/c38fa369e17c31dde823661c558f41d3/tumblr_pest5fp9fq1riqhfk_500.jpg) \- [prompts](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ca/a2/f8/caa2f8a6e9e04119a253292661fc3d25.jpg)

_2Taem [17:05]: ur out tonight right?_  
_Bumkeyk [17:06]: Why…_  
_2Taem [17:06]: got a boy coming over! 6v6_  
_Bumkeyk [17:07]: Oh?_  
_2Taem [17:08]: 6v6_  
_Bumkeyk [17:08]: I’ll be gone for the month on a shoot so place is all yours._  
_Bumkeyk [17:08]: No weird shit this time, though…_  
_Bumkeyk [17:09]: I’m starting to think you have a problem._  
_Bumkey [17:14]: You hear me?? Yah, brat, I’m being serious!_  
_2Taem [17:15]: 6v6_

_**Loading…** _

If there was one word to describe Kim Jongin it would be “traditionalist.” He liked certain things to fall under certain expectations--especially dating. He missed the days of meet cutes and coffee dates, building anticipation from one day to the next until both parties fell in love. Granted, he’d only ever had a few of those dates himself, but the idea was nice and that’s where he wanted to pursue his dating time. 

His best friend Sehun thought him ridiculous.

“Just try one app. You’re never going to meet anyone with the way your schedule is now,” he said, shuffling the stack of old newspapers aside to make room for himself. The headline at the top read _“Ten boys missing in the last--”_ but his coffee cup was set on top of it before either even thought to read it.

Jongin, who had just slumped over the counter of Sehun’s kitchen with his arms cradling a carton of strawberry milk, sighed. It was true… He’d been practicing very late at the studio and returning early in the mornings to teach. The struggle of balancing ones work with their wants and their passions. 

“I don’t have time to find dates, what makes you think I have time to date dates?”

“Poetic,” Sehun chuckled. “Stick to dancing Jongin, wordage isn’t your strong suit.”

The brunette pouted in response.

“Maybe not a date but you look like you could benefit from getting your dick sucked. Just a thought."

It didn’t sit well with Jongin’s sensibilities. Because _of course_ sex was something that he only pursued after an appropriate number of dates. But he was feeling rather...lonely these days. The kids in his classes only perked up his day for as long as the few hours they shared and he so rarely could find the time to greet Sehun like this. And don’t even get him started on Baekhyun, Jongdae, or Minseok. Jongin swore those three only ever went out at night (and by that point Jongin was either nursing bruised knees or crawling into bed).

“Here,” Sehun swiped his phone while Jongin was too deep in thought to process. 

With lightning fast fingers and no remorse, he quickly had a new app locked onto his phone and a whole profile put in place. Jongin’s nose scrunched as he read it over. “‘I’m just one big bear looking for fun. Oh, and a dancer.’ There are so many bear emojis here...”

“I just used as many as you’ve sent to me in our chats over the last week.”

“I don’t use _that_ many,”

Sehun slid the chat in question over and cocked a brow.

Jongin relented. “Okay, fine…”

His phone alighted with notifications and Sehun grinned. “You’re already so popular. Go see if someone’s to your tastes.” He strolled around the length of the counter after to sling his arms over his best friend in a half hug. “You know I just want you to have fun between all the times you’re busy. I really do think this will help. And if it doesn’t I’ll treat you to a whole chicken dinner. Deal?”

“ _You’ll_ treat me, or that sugar daddy of yours named Junmyeon will?”

Sehun’s eyes glinted when they met Jongin’s. “Guess you’ll just have to see, huh?”

x

On a rare night off--thanks exclusively to the broken pipes in his dance studio’s ceiling-- Jongin found himself taking unfamiliar steps up the path to an apartment. They’d met on Sehun’s app and though they shared a few late night meetups at a number of cafes in the area before, Jongin couldn’t tell if it warranted the possibility of sex or not. By the numbers this was technically their fourth date, and the man in question, a pretty blonde with warm eyes named Lee Taemin, was far from pushy for this; especially after Jongin laid out his traditionalist ways after their second meetup.

“I fall in so love easily,” Taemin had joked on their second date. “All my friends yell at me. They say I have a problem.” It was an explanation for what he wanted, while also expressing a willingness to progress on Jongin’s terms. “I don’t mind,” he reassured. “I really like you a lot, I want you to wait until you like me enough too. I want you to be comfortable with me.”

So Jongin was here by his own choice, he just couldn’t separate the uncertainty of we’re doing this now from the anxiousness of _it’s been a **long** time._ It left him a ball of muddled emotions that manifested themselves as a pout on his lips when he rang the buzzer at Taemin’s door.

“Don’t look so sad to see me,” Taemin teased upon answering, tilting his head to the left and offering a smile. “I’ve ordered from your favorite chicken place.”

“Chicken?” Jongin perked up at that. All fears thrown out the window, now he felt better about his choice for the night.

Truthfully, despite his previous nervousness Jongin had become quite fond of Taemin in no time at all. Taemin was a dancer too, though an old knee injury took away all of his big stage ambitions he understood of all the technical training that Jongin liked to chat on about. And he smiled all the while because both of them agreed that there was nothing better than a person going off about their passions. These days instead, Jongin learned, Taemin was focused on art and writing while living with an up-and-coming model named Kim Kibum.

They both liked stupid jokes, both had a penchant for video games, both shared a tendency to lose all of their possessions. 

Maybe it was bold of Jongin to say that he was smitten from the moment Taemin bought him a hot chocolate after one early morning text message about not being fond of coffee. Maybe he needed a bit more time than some nice nights shared in cute coffee shops while Jongin tried to unwind from the day. But maybe it was fine that despite the handful of dates under their belts he felt eager at the idea of coming over to a dinner of fried chicken and...whatever else might be on the table. 

Oh, and did he forget to mention that Taemin was _beautiful_? That was nice for Jongin too. 

“So..." Taemin nudged the box now filled with chicken bones a bit further from them as he leaned over Jongin. His lips graced the jut of his cheekbone, breath hot and sticky like the honey glaze he’d just consumed. “What do you think?” But then he pulled back as quickly as he came forward and offered a soft smile. “But if you’re not sure yet that’s fine. There are lots of other things we can do to spend a night.”

But Jongin’s hand caught Taemin’s before he could pull away too far. He smiled too, though there was a deep want coloring his dark brown eyes that didn’t match the surprise taking over in Taemin’s. “Really?” Taemin asked, stammering just a little bit before he outright grinned. “Oh Kim Jongin,” he ran his fingers through his soft hair. “I’ll take good care of you. It’s going to be fun. Trust me on that one.” 

By the time Jongin’s head hit his pillow he had no grasp on where their clothes had been flung to. His white flannel fell away on the couch, his belt somewhere between the wall he’d slammed Taemin against and the doorway of the bedroom, his pants… oh, those were actually still pooled at his ankles now that he realized, but Jongin was a bit too busy to care. Taemin’s lips were intoxicating, peppering sinfully sweet kisses all along his jawline and collar while his teeth left soft marks in their wake. Black button down hung open on his shoulders, Taemin’s knees bracketed Jongin’s waist hard at his hips, and his hands stayed busy tracing all the lines of Jongin’s body. 

“You taste good,” Taemin hummed, back arched over just enough to drag the pad of his tongue along the jut of Jongin’s collarbone. Jongin parted his lips to reply but words jumbled themselves up in a knot at the base of his throat when Taemin’s path shifted up his neck. Low, languid motions had him subdued beneath the weight of the smaller male. His fingers twitched but could only find purchase in the cool night air filling Taemin’s apartment. 

They hadn’t even done much yet.

But Taemin wasted little time after shedding away the rest of their clothes and pumping Jongin’s cock to full length. “Sorry,” He let out, breathless and giggly, “It’s just been a bit for me. If I’m being too eager let me know.”

Jongin was just as eager, though. Sehun really had hit the nail on the head--a nail Jongin hadn’t recognized needed hammering. _’Not the only thing being hammered tonight.’_ He smirked at the thought.

“Want to make it more fun?” Taemin whispered with a hard bite on the shell of Jongin’s ear quickly after.

“Mmm...mm!” Jongin’s voice broke so he let his head and its quick nodding do the replying for him. Taemin’s hips slammed down harder so that soft moans poured from his lips at his own doing, and Jongin struggled to focus enough to catch whatever his lover wanted to offer to _“make it more fun.”_ Somehow, slowly, he stilled his hips enough so that Taemin, despite his high, could come back to this moment between them and finish out his thought.

“Fun?”

“R-right,” Taemin gasped. Sometimes he could be so scattered. In their little time together Jongin had noticed spots where his eyes would unfocus like he was taking in the details of the world one atom at a time--like he was consuming every blemish and pore on Jongin’s skin before moving to their greater surroundings. Honestly...Jongin, who often would get spacey too especially after long dance sessions, found it kinda cute. He smiled up at Taemin.

And Taemin smiled back, leaned in to press a kiss to Jongin’s chapped and chewed lips with a palm against his sternum for stability, as if they were sharing the exact same thoughts. Then he whispered, “Ever try breath play?”

“Mm?” Jongin tried to cock a brow but Taemin’s hips crashing back against his killed that thought fast. 

“It’ll be fun. Like this…” Taemin’s body rolled to a slow, moving in waves that sucked all of Jongin in and sent spots through his vision. His lips pressed at the base of Jongin’s neck, between the V made of splayed fingers and thumb. Each kiss took up a few seconds’ time, up over his Adam’s apple, to the jut just below his jaw, hand trailing after until his hand was flush against his neck. Then his fingers curled. 

Jongin gasped-- or tried to. The weight of Taemin’s hold suddenly pressed onto his windpipe as his nails bit marks into his skin. Beat by beat Jongin was losing air. His eyes growing wider, his hips bucking up to get Taemin’s attention, his hands scrambling across any expanse of skin he could reach. Push? Scratch? Pinch? Anything to get his air back.

“Relax…” 

Jongin could hear the smirk in his voice. Right… Right this was just fun. Just a game. “Breath play” Taemin had called it. And Jongin was out of practice. He had to trust his partner to take care of him. Taemin had said he’d do just that.

So he let his shoulders slack as Taemin pulled away and put more pressure into his hold. So he let his eye lid as the rims of his vision started to grow fuzzy. So he let Taemin restrict his breath until there was nothing but two bodies and blackness, until he felt himself lose consciousness. 

A car horn blaring outside the dark curtains brought Jongin to a lurch upright, inhaling in sharp, heavy gulps with one hand clutched at his chest and the other seeking purchase in anything it could root to. It fell onto a form, firm muscles beneath cotton sheets, and he jumped when he saw Taemin still sleeping soundly next to him. 

A groan left the blonde haired male’s lips as he rolled to his other side and shook his head. “Not yet…” He grumbled, unbothered by both the sounds and the panicking boyfriend(?) next to him.

Jongin’s continued gasping finally pulled Taemin slightly more upright but he took his time to situate--rubbing over his eyes, yawning, stretching until he settled with his forearms pressed to the mattress and his weight on his elbows. A hand ruffled sex mussed hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“I....I passed out... I couldn’t breathe.” Jongin panted, eyes too fixated on trembling hands to spare Taemin a glance. 

“Hm?” Taemin shifted to his knees now in order to drape his arms over Jongin’s shoulders. “What are you talking about? Passed out?” He dragged the back of his hand down the a tan cheek. Gaze softening, Taemin pulled Jongin’s focus fully to him and shook his head. “No, no baby. Must have been a nightmare.”

“Nightmare…?” 

“Yeah,” Taemin smiled something sweet. “We were playing around a bit last night before you came and then you passed out on the spot. I helped us both clean up and then fell asleep next to you.”

“But your hand? B-breath play?”

“Yeah,” A giggle. “We were experimenting a little and you must’ve really liked it. I’m sorry that disturbed your dreams though.” 

Jongin’s eyes scanned Taemin’s face with enough uncertainty etched in his features that it drew more giggles from Taemin. Just a dream? Could it really be? But the blonde seemed so assured, and the way he was gently running his fingers through Jongin’s hair and over his bare skin lulled him into the belief that maybe it really...had been? Such a dream… Jongin never dreamed. But he didn’t do a lot of things--dating apps and early hookups being two of those things--so maybe Taemin was just shaking up his otherwise mundale life. 

Sehun would say it was a good thing. 

Slowly he nodded. “A nightmare… I guess so,” brows pinched, Jongin offered an apologetic half smile Taemin’s way. “S-sorry for waking you suddenly then. Must’ve been scary.”

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” Taemin leaned to to kiss his cheek. Then, moving his lips to the shell of Jongin’s ear, he whispered, “It takes a _lot_ to scare me.” 

_**Press start** _

No matter how many extra hours of dance burned into his muscles or late nights of gaming with Sehun, Jongin couldn’t shake the residual uneasiness from that night together. 

Jongin wasn’t the type to black out. Nor was he the type to dream often-- let alone have nightmares. 

It left him unsettled, wondering where something--if anything--went wrong; questioning at length his health, his work, how often he was dancing and where his body might be protesting without him realizing it. Sehun told him to take breaks but Jongin hadn’t thought he was this bad. What could he do? 

_Take a break,_ a voice strangely sounding like Sehun’s encouraged him in the back of his head. And how to do that?

Taemin came to his workplace one night and disrupted his heavy thoughts entirely. It started as an offer to watch his new routine since, out of everyone in Jongin’s life, the blonde new the most about his goals. His feedback was unrivaled in its helpfulness, and though Jongin finished the night as a sweaty mess, he finally felt like he had found reprieve from his own head.

It also helped that their stretching-session-turned-makeout-session ended in a nice fuck in the locker room bathroom.

For a whole 5 hours Jongin didn’t think about anything other than the fun he was having and the man who gave it all to him. So when he received a text later that week he thought of nothing else he could want to do more.

_2Taem [23:18]: Want to come over again? I’ll buy dinner!_

The intent in returning to Taemin’s apartment was to relax, yet Jongin’s heart raced faster with each slow step he took towards his boyfriend’s(?) door. He shook it out, mentally and physically, with a wave of his wrists. Taemin was so good at taking his mind off of things. There was nothing to worry about. So, swallowing hard, he tried to force the lump in his throat down to the pit of his stomach as he readied to knock.

The door opened before he even had a chance.

“Welcome back,” Taemin greeted with a smile, shuffling in his baby chick yellow slippers to let Jongin inside. 

“Thanks,” Jongin tried to match Taemin’s cheerfulness with his own, though the awkward certainly read in the corners where his lips quirked upward. He took his time stepping out of his shoes and onto the heated floor, using each second to quell the pounding in his chest and behind his ears. Fortunately the apartment already smelled like his favorite chicken place.

“I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?” He asked, attempting small talk as they crossed the small hallway towards Taemin’s room. 

“Not at all. Food just got here.”

“Great. I’m starving. I can’t wait to…” Jongin paused. Even the thought of eating trailed from his head as his eyes settled on a circle of shot glasses placed around their delivery containers. Each contained a different color liquid ranging from neon blue to wine red. A couple were empty, but Jongin’s attention had turned back to Taemin with a quirk of his brow before he could count them all properly. “What’s this?”

“Oh, my roommate was playing games with some coworkers before heading out tonight,” Taemin’s lips spread wider. “It looked fun so I wanted to ask if you’d be interested in playing before I put it all away. I know it’s just dinner but... want to make it more fun?”

Like an icepick to the back of his eyes, a sharp pain hit him all at once and he nearly flinched. Mouth dry, Jongin’s lips parted in the midst of his mind trying to process why it had gone into such a sudden overdrive. But all he could stammer out was, “I don’t really drink.”

“That’s okay!” Taemin, unphased, walked to the table and took his place on the floor. “Only some of them are alcoholic. That’s the fun of the game. C’mon,” a hand beckoned Jongin over. “Let’s just try it.”

 _’Can’t we just eat…?’_ Jongin lamented alone, licking over his lips as he sat before their fried feast. But Taemin looked so eager and Jongin just wanted to _forget_ all the things that had his mind wrapped up in so many fickle nights. Games were good, right? Games could help. He and Sehun played games. 

“So what do we do?”

Taemin let out a hum, slender fingers preoccupied with opening the container of chicken while his eyes focused on the drinks; almost as if he didn’t quite know the answer himself. “Well,” He started before Jongin could jump in with his uncertainties. Taemin’s hand reached over the drinks to offer their dinner. “I have a spinner app on my phone. Wherever it lands on we have to drink. Easy right?” 

Taemin’s eyes still hadn’t left the circle, even after Jongin finished half of his first drumstick. He bent at his side, head tilting, trying to catch Taemin’s gaze where food in his mouth had inhibited him prodding _‘Everything okay?_

All at once Taemin’s attention snapped back to Jongin and he nearly jumped in surprise. “Shall we?” 

“Mmm…”

Taemin let out a low laugh. “You’re so cute, Jonginnie,” he breathed, reaching across with his thumb to gather the sweet soy glaze already stuck on the brunette’s cheek. “Want me to go first?”

Jongin nodded.

“Okay~ I’ll go!” 

Taemin loaded up the app and set it where the chicken used to be. A neon green arrow with a red button in the center flashed up at him, he pressed at its center with a flourish and then they both watched it circle to a slow until the tip pointed at an empty glass.

“Darn,” Taemin huffed, taking the cup gingerly between his forefinger and thumb and miming a shot. Tongue out, and alcoholess, he glanced back to Jongin. “You’re turn.” 

Jongin shifted slowly to his knees, his second piece of chicken between his teeth. A clean finger pressed the button. Now that Taemin had taken his away there were only three empty glasses left, five of red liquid, and three of the blue one. Jongin still didn’t know what they were, but as there were fewer blue ones he figured they must be the worst of them all. That’s how Russian Roulette works, right? So when it landed on red he let out a sigh of relief and took the shot as quickly as he could while Taemin nibbled on a chicken wing across from him. 

He set it down with a proud thump against the table, shuttered at the taste, and stuck his tongue out. “Guh…”

“Not to your taste?” Taemin snickered. “Bad luck.”

“Seems right,” Jongin muttered around another bite of chicken he hoped would drown out the lingering liquor.

“Do you have a lot of bad luck?”

“Sorta,” Jongin fidgeted in his seat, trying not to disturb the table of drinks. He didn’t like thinking about it, so he didn’t mean to make the off-handed comment. Taemin’s eyes said that Jongin could tell him anything but the words weren’t wasting Taemin’s time with. 

Parents who passed away too early, dance school dashed by rescinded scholarships, dreams put on hold to nurse injuries and a lifetime of working just to make ends meet-- Jongin wasn’t one to believe in things like ‘luck.’ But he did have confidence in hard work, and that was more than enough for him.

Jongin met that imploring look and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Not worth taking up our game time with either.” He tilted the now empty glass Taemin’s way, hiccuped, and added, “Your turn.”

Tucking that pause well behind them both, Taemin pressed the spinner. It landed on a blue drink and Jongin howled with surprisingly loud laughter that caused a blonde brow to raise.

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

Taemin finished his honey soy wing then chased it with the shot. “Oof,” A shiver coursed through him that only made Jongin beam wider. “Alright. You go.” 

“Do you handle your drinks well, Taemin?” Jongin asked as he reached over, spun onto another red glass, and took it in two gulps. 

“Sort of. My roommate likes to drink a lot so I think I’ve built tolerance up over the years. Do you?”

“I try not to drink,” which was probably why he was feeling a little off already. If he had to pick between coffee and booze Jongin would pick the former (and he _despised_ coffee, just ask Sehun and the number of ugly reaction pictures he has from when his so called “best” friend switched his tea with anything else). A slightly shaky hand pushed through his gelled hair. Surely his tolerance wasn’t _this_ bad to be taken out by three shots. He was sure not all of these were alcoholic either. He dragged his tongue over his chapped lips and shook out his head.

“Doing okay?” There was gentleness to Taemin’s tone that matched the hand reaching around the table to touch Jongin’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” But he was sweating now, and his eyes felt heavy and hot. His tongue burned of more than pepper flakes. And across from him Taemin looked totally fine. _‘How?’_

“How what?” Taemin asked with a little laugh.

Oh shoot, Jongin only meant to think that. 

“Nothing,” He waved the other from him. “‘S your turn now right?”

“Yep.” Taemin spun again and took out the last of the empty glasses. He’d hit all four now while Jongin continued to only take out red drink after red drink. He scrubbed his palms over his face for a second to give himself time to think. 

Then, suddenly, he stood. “I’m going to use your bathroom.”

“Oh… Okay.” Taemin got to his feet as well but before he could make it a few steps further Jongin was around the corner and out of sight. 

He shut the door as gracefully as his loose limbs would let him and slumped his weight against the wall. A hand scrambled across the light brown tile for the light switch he’d forgotten to flip when he entered while the other struggled with his phone. He needed to look up these symptoms. No. He needed to text Sehun. No… he had to call a car and get home. Jongin couldn’t drink but this wasn’t tipsiness he was feeling. This throat closing, heart palpitating just sort of anxiety that had sunk its claws into Jongin as suddenly as the sun set. Jongin wasn’t used to this.

Though his eyes stared unfocused at the screen of his phone he managed to make out “2 minutes” on the lower third of the app and knew he could at least make it to retrieve his shoes and be out the door in enough time before Taemin could get even a question out, let alone stop him. Stuck on _I don’t want to burden him_ with whatever weirdness his body was continuing to go through (first nightmares, now this?) the last thing Taemin needed was to hear Jongin fumble through weird explanations and non-descriptions of his symptoms. This feeling like death. 

So when he wrenched open the door again, forgetting to cover his trail with a flush of the toilet or by using the sink, he tried hard not to look into those eyes that asked him to speak the whole world. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Wait, “I mean not really. I think I should go home and rest. I don’t want to get sick in your house.”

“Ah, Jonginnie…” Taemin’s voice dropped and despite the way Jongin’s muscles flinched when he shuffled over, missed the hint not to reach out and touch him. “I’m sorry you’re so unwell. Before you go I want you to try this, it’s a home remedy.”

Held out before him was another shot two shades darker than the red ones he’d previously consumed. Taemin was explaining something about ginseng and dates that Jongin couldn’t quite compresend as he took it between uncertain hands. 

“Just drink. It should make you feel loads better.”

He blinked over to Taemin. 

Another smile, another tilt of blonde hair as his head cocked to the side, another soft encouragement of “Just drink.”

But when Jongin’s phone started buzzing in his pocket he shoved it back against the other’s chest and went for his shoes instead. 

“Sorry, I have to go!” And he was heading out the door. 

Taemin went to his side quickly, softened features and slacked shoulders as they stepped in time. Unlike earlier, he wasn’t trying to touch Jongin, and that brought the male’s feet to slow. 

“Okay,” Taemin’s voice dropped softly, beckoning Jonging to glance over, and in that time the blonde opened the front door for him. 

_‘Maybe I shouldn’t be so worried. Maybe I should stay,’_ he thought for a moment, but his car was here and cancelling would be a pain. So he met Taemin’s concern with a soft smile and an apologetic bow of his head.

Taemin asked, “Let me know when you’re home?” and Jongin nodded.

“Of course.”

“Okay. Feel better Jongin.” 

The last thing he saw was Taemin waving after him gently. 

The last thing he heard was the door clicking to a quiet close. 

The last thing he missed was the sharp crack of that final shot, glass shattered into his palm as Taemin stood stoic in the growing darkness of his apartment.

_**Game over** _

Taemin was calling. 

Odd. Jongin couldn’t think of a time before that they spoke on the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Taemin’s voice sounded as airy cool as always. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better, thanks. Is everything okay.”

“Yeah, better than okay.”

“Then why the phone call?” 

Chuckles carried through the receiver and washed coldly over Jongin. He shivered. 

“Can’t I just call my boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” 

“That’s what we are, right? It’s been a month. But if the title is too much I can stop using it. I didn’t call to talk about titles.” 

“So what’d you call about?”

“I have something special planned for us tonight if you’re free.” 

Jongin blinked. “Special?”

“Yeah. Since our one month meet-iversary just passed I wanted to do something to celebrate. Do you work tonight?”

Jongin had the night off but something urged him to secrecy.

“Well,” Taemin continued, “regardless. If you happen to find some time tonight I want you to meet me somewhere.”

Jongin grunted a sound of acknowledgement. 

“The West Playground not too far from the apartment. Do you know the one? Nine is when it closes for children so let’s meet at 11:30. If you can that is. No pressure!”

“Sure. I’ll text you if I can’t?”

“Sounds good but please try to come. It’ll be fun!”

 _Fun._ What about that word made Jongin bristle now?

“Take care, Jongin. I’ll see you tonight.” 

And despite the anxiety nibbling at his heart and lungs that he’d been trying hard to ignore all day, he still found himself making his way towards the place in question. Gravel crumbled beneath his combat boots, adding to the unsteadiness of his legs. 

_Listen to your gut_ was something he always could be better at. Before it strained his back, tainted his stomach, drained his pockets in ways that had he listened could have all been avoided. This could be his chance to improve, but as he came upon the yellow and green jungle gym, rusting with age and scuffed with use, he realized it might be too late.

Taemin wasn’t around. 

And without Taemin around, Jongin suddenly found...relief. Until his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_2Taem [23:33]: Check the jungle gym!  
2Taem [23:33]: 6v6_

Jongin paused. Dark eyes flit in every direction around him but besides the playground equipment--large plastic slides and wind swaying swings bracketing the jungle gym--he saw nothing. “Taemin? Where are you?” He called and met with silence. “Aish,” he let out under his breath. “After this we’re breaking up.” Boyfriends(?) or not, Jongin couldn’t do this anymore. 

He was too big to be climbing between the geometric holes made by paint chipped bars, but soon enough Jongin managed to make it inside. Tucked across from him and half buried beneath wood chips, Jongin eventually caught sight of a card etched at the top with his own name. _It’ll be fun,_ ringing in his ears he couldn’t keep himself from scowling at the sight. Taemin’s games had yet to be games and how stupid he’d been to keep coming back for more. Sehun used to tease him for his ‘daredevil’ tendencies, and who was Jongin if not a bit of a thrill junkie in everything but his love life? This, though, might be crossing a line.

With bated breath, while shadows spread over the moonlight above him, he ran the pad of his finger over the card’s edge and flipped it open.

_“Peek-a-boo! I see you! Look up.”_

Jongin’s neck snapped up.

Only white light washed over him, causing him to squint when another folded piece of paper grazed his skin. He caught it before it hit the ground and let his tongue drag over chapped lips before he opened it. 

_“Take a shot. Head home.”_

Turning slow enough to not slam his head against any of the bars, Jongin caught sight of the only visible window to Taemin’s apartment and the light that just flicked on inside. “Home, huh…” He bit hard onto his bottom lip. 

The door was unlocked and ajar when he arrived, though no sounds could be heard from either outside nor in the apartment--save the rattling of Jongin’s own heart against his ribs. 

“Taemin?” He dared to call, expecting the silence this time; save for his own heavy steps into the shared living space. 

The smell was horrid. Jongin winced and rush his hand to his face, covering his nose and mouth in hope that the leftover cologne on his skin could hide the rancid-ness of rotting chicken. The set up was too familiar for his liking, with small glasses resting in a circle around what Jongin only prays wasn’t their dinner from that night. The shot closest to him was the only one filled; crumpled white paper acting as contents. Jongin held his breath, inching his way closer to snag the second note.

_“Come to me. I’ll take your breath away.’’_

Flashes of a hand pressed to his throat flitted behind closed eyelids. He made his way to the bedroom.

Light peaked through the cracks of the door and though Jongin could breathe now that the bones were behind him he found himself stuck in an exhale as he nudged his way inside.

No Taemin, but the bed alone wasn’t welcoming either. Sheets turn asunder, a noose rested on the pillow Jongin had claimed the night they shared and a plastic bag with big, black X’s for eyes waited at its side.

Trembling was the wrong word-- Jongin was quaking, thinking about that night and how something had saved him for a very shocking, very sudden death. And that something wasn’t Taemin’s own benevolence. The _slam_ of a cupboard drew him back from his thoughts. He jumped, turned, but there were no other sounds anywhere inside this place. Nothing that he could hear, anyway... 

Something else was missing, though; not just Taemin. A series of notes had drawn him into this shocking strangulation scene and without the blonde around Jongin started to think he hadn’t cracked the code yet. But the bed...God, even inching his way over didn’t help calm Jongin’s nerves. He was even close to checking under the bed but figured monsters were better kept unknown. 

Stuffed in the scrawled over bag he found it; another letter with his name.

_“Turn around.”_

As he did, the closet door creaked open.

Jongin had yet to see this room before (of course, because no respectful person goes into the closest of another unannounced) and he couldn’t think of any connection this space had to any of their times before. He’d already been to the bedroom and nearly tripped over the coffee table that held their shots. There was nothing that told him he should have his hand on this black painted door knob. 

But there were plenty of signs screaming at him not to twist the handle and stepp inside. 

Nothing more than fairy lights illuminated small space with a large collection of...things. Jongin didn’t understand at first, glancing between clusters of blood stained old shirts and hoodies on headless mannequins to the display cases of earrings and rings. Each item marked with a small placard: name, dates, favorite physical features. Jongin trailed slowly around, reading on people he’d never known as though he were in a graveyard. _‘It can’t be though…’_ He was losing confidence. _‘Something like this… why would he even want me to see it.’_

Then there it was, plain as day-- an empty shadow box with none other than “Kim Jongin” etched in the frame’s center. 

“Like it?”

Jongin whipped around to meet bright eyes and a calm grin, blonde strands illuminated in specks of cast light. He’d frozen, so Taemin filled the space for him. “Peek-a-boo~” 

It was a needless action but still Jongin took a step back to create space between them (and press his back closer towards his own tombstone). “What the fuck is this Taemin…”

“My collection,” the grin widened. His attention glanced to a clear case that Jongin remembered belonging to a ‘Kim Moonkyu.’ “It’s nice right? I like new and sparkly things, so I try to preserve them before they get to dull.”

Jongin winced. “And I’m dull…?” He dared to ask. 

Letting out a long, low hum Taemin tapped a finger to his chin. “Well…” 

He let that note linger long in the air between them until Jongin choked out, “Well?”

“That’s up to you.”

“H-how? What can I--”

Taemin lunged forward, fingers gripped tightly around his neck. “Tag,” He squeezed until Jongin’s eyes started to bug. “You’re it.”

Before he could crash into the wall Jongin swung their bodies around. The ground shook with their combined weights, Taemin’s hand still latched on Jongin’s throat but his body pinned beneath the brunette’s own. He scrambled, trying to loop his fingers between Taemin’s, bite his nails into his skin, rip his hands away from him. Taemin’s knee connected with his back before he could get too far. A dirty move. Jongin needed to play this way too. So instead of focusing on freeing himself from his choke hold, he started to claw Taemin’s face in return. The blonde shrieked and Jongin was freed and bucked the other off before he knew it. 

“Fuck,” But Taemin was still laughing, white teeth glinting through the blood streaming down his face. 

Jongin went to body check him out of the closest, Taemin side stepping the last second, until he was eating facefulls of hardwood. A boot crushed against his back. 

“Pause,” Taemin spoke suddenly, frozen on the spot just to...look at Jongin, over and over and over again in the course of no time at all, sprawled out beneath the sole of his shoe with desperation tensing all of his muscles. Each time he tried to struggle Taemin would grind his boot harder. _‘You’re different.’_ He grinned. 

“Meet me on the roof,” He said.

Jongin struggled onto his knees, body bent with his attempt to breathe. He didn’t want to play this anymore. He didn’t have a death wish. But then he looked back towards the closet. Too many poor souls lost in order to fulfill a sick man’s sicker games. He could escape and risk the sacrifice of another poor person to Taemin’s will. 

Or he could end this.

Sehun used to nag Jongin for caring too much about other people-- _“You’d run in front of a bus to save a grandma. Where’s your sense of self-preservation?”_

Sehun had no idea.

And yet that conviction steeled Jongin’s nerves. He climbed with newfound confidence up the red emergency ladder leading to the roof of the building. 

With his hands in his pockets, as if he were merely stargazing, Taemin stood waiting without a care in the world. He turned to Jongin with an unreadable smile, then cocked his head to the side. “Shall we?”

Nails latched tightly into Taemin’s biceps, Jongin used every muscle in his body to keep them at an arm's’ length, dangerously aware of how swiftly their steps were approaching the edge of the roof of the apartment complex.

“I’m not afraid.” He bit out, eyes ablaze and fixed on nothing less than pure insanity. 

Taemin only grinned. “It’d be less fun if you were.” 

All at once his weight dropped with a bend at his knees and before Jongin realized it he’d charged them forward. 

‘Now or never,’ Jongin thought with a grit of his teeth. To end it once for a for all. He sunk back on his own weight, gripped tight enough to leave bruises imprinted in Taemin’s skin--not that they’d matter, not where they’d be going. He took in a breath, made a slow count to three like all those nights when he couldn’t breathe right, and launched them both backwards.

Over the edge, off the side; until the wind rushed through their ears and stung their eyes. 

And Jongin swore, if Taemin’s laughter was the last thing he hear it’d be worth it--this grating, loud, piercing sound that would never be able to hurt anyone again. If others would be fine, if others could avoid this monster, then it’d be worth it.

 _‘Fine,’_ he chanted to take him away from the looming countdown of milliseconds until they hit the ground. _‘Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.’_

The hit was hard, the cracks of their bodies and bones deafening, and it went black before Jongin had the chance to see red. _‘Silence.’_ Finally. _‘Peace?’_ Lord, he could only hope.

Long strings of steady beeping brought him consciousness back, blinking up into bright lights. His winced--bad move, feeling every nerve in his body scream protest--and slowly his mind started to filter through the heavy haze of post-unconsciousness to a state of subtle comprehension. How could it be that he...survived? _‘How?’_

“How what?” He heard a voice as hoarse as his own throat felt heave out. His blood ran cool. Dare he look? In his periphery a sickening blonde so stomach churning he could only imagine how the whole figure would make him feel. 

But Taemin was already looking at him around his own oxygen mask and Jongin could feel that look boring into his soul. So, swallowing, he turned to meet it head on. 

Taemin let out a chest heavy, coughing laugh, taking in every inch of Jongin wrapped in hard plaster much like himself. The steady beat of their heart rates matched at an eerily delicious, despite once being predator and prey. Jongin who stole Taemin’s easy heart with a simple, _“I’m not afraid.”_ Oh, how he loved new things, but maybe that didn’t mean throwing away the old. Not yet, anyway. _‘This is new. Is this love?’_ His lips split into a wide grin. “That was fun. Do it again?”

_**Continue?** _


End file.
